Chapter Thirty-Eight: Enduring

The next morning, when Banxia woke, Anzi was already awake, sitting obediently on the bed, gazing at her with a dazed, silly look.

“Anzi, you’re awake? Are you hungry?” she asked gently.

Anzi shook his head, embarrassed. “Sister, I want to go to the latrine.” His little face was flushed red; who knew how long he’d been holding it. Banxia hurriedly took him to relieve himself.

“In the future, if you ever feel uncomfortable, call for me right away. Don’t keep it to yourself, all right?” Banxia said as she rubbed his little hands, then continued, “After we use the latrine, we must wash our hands carefully. If we don’t, invisible little bugs will grow on our hands, and if we eat with them, those bugs will get into our stomachs and make us sick. Then we’d have to drink bitter medicine, understand?”

“I understand,” he replied.

Looking at Anzi’s thin little body, Banxia began to miss the sheep she’d had back in the village. She had given it to Huiniang’s family before coming to the city, as it was too inconvenient to bring along, and she’d taught them how to remove the goaty smell from the milk. Thinking of it now, if she still had that little sheep, she could give Anzi some milk—nourishing and full of calcium, without causing heatiness. But there was nothing to be done. Banxia resolved to buy some bones later to make soup, to give the child more nourishment.

Because she hadn’t opened the shop the day before, and today was market day, customers came in an endless stream. Banxia handed Anzi a children’s calligraphy copybook, telling him to play quietly behind the counter and not to wander off, worried someone might take him away.

Anzi obediently practiced calligraphy at the counter. An old regular, buying something, joked with Banxia, “I always thought you and your husband had no children, but it turns out your child is already so big!”

“This is my younger brother. I just had him brought over from our hometown.”

“He’s a handsome one, looks like a little celestial child. But then you and Scholar Gan are both good-looking—it truly runs in the family.”

Though Anzi seemed to be practicing, he was really listening to Banxia. Hearing this, he broke into a happy smile—he and his sister were a family.

During a lull, Banxia asked the neighboring shopkeeper to watch the store for a while, turned to the kitchen to set a pot of bone soup to simmer and started steaming rice. When she returned, she was surprised to see Anzi actually doing business.

“This one is five wen, this one is forty-five wen,” he declared, his tiny face serious and pretending to be grown up.

The young woman across from him found him adorable and teased, “So, how much is that in total?”

How much in total? Anzi had no idea; he only knew the prices from having just heard his sister mention them.

“Our Anzi is already helping his sister with business—such a good boy!” Banxia came over and pinched his little cheek, then smiled at the customer, “That’s fifty wen in total.”

The young woman paid and left.

“Sister, you’re amazing, you know everything!” Anzi looked up at her in awe.

“Then I’ll teach you everything, so you’ll know too, all right?”

“Yes! Then I can help you mind the shop, so you won’t be so tired.”

Banxia couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“How did you know the prices, Anzi?” she asked.

“Because you just said them—I heard you.”

He remembered after hearing just once? Banxia tested him by asking about several items she’d sold earlier, and Anzi could recall the prices almost exactly.

“Wow! Our Anzi is a little prodigy!” Banxia scooped him up. Such talent couldn’t go to waste, she thought—maybe she should send him to the academy, though she wasn’t sure if they’d accept one so young.

“What are you thinking about, Sister?” asked Anzi.

“I’m thinking about whether to send you to school.”

Anzi’s face immediately crumpled, as if he was about to cry. “Do you not want me anymore, Sister? I’ll be good, please don’t leave me.”

Banxia quickly hugged him, comforting him, “How could I not want you? There are lots of children at school, and they’ll play with you.”

“I don’t want to play with them; I only want to be with you.” Anzi clung tightly to her clothes. Banxia didn’t push him—he was still so young; this could be considered again later.

“All right, then we won’t go to school. I’ll teach you myself, how about that?”

Anzi finally nodded happily.

Banxia received Gan Sui’s first letter on the fifth day after his departure, delivered by Wang Xiaoshan.

“Sister-in-law, let me know if you want to write back, or if you need anything sent. Master has things to send as well, so we can send everything together.”

“Thank you, Senior Brother,” Banxia replied. “I’ll write a reply and bring it to you shortly.”

“Who is this child?” he asked.

“My younger brother. Just brought him from my hometown,” Banxia replied, using her usual explanation—she wasn’t trying to hide anything, just didn’t want to get into details.

“He’s a beautiful child,” Wang Xiaoshan said. Since his wife became pregnant, he often imagined what his own child might look like, and his heart had grown softer. He was especially fond of children now.

“Come, Anzi, call me brother,” he encouraged.

Anzi, shy around strangers, softly murmured, “Hello, brother,” then hid behind Banxia, peeking out at Wang Xiaoshan.

“I’ve gained quite a bargain here—at my age, I could be your uncle.” He took out a small gold horse figurine. “Here, play with this.”

Anzi did not reach for it, looking instead at Banxia.

“Senior Brother, that’s too precious,” she said.

“It’s nothing, it’s hollow, just a toy.”

Only then did Banxia say to Anzi, “Brother is giving it to you, take it and say thank you.”

“Thank you, brother.”

“I have to go prepare things for Master, so I won’t stay. Farewell, sister-in-law.”

After Wang Xiaoshan left, Banxia opened Gan Sui’s letter, along with a small box that had come with it.

She opened the letter.

My dearest Banxia,

By the time this letter reaches you, I should have been gone five days. How are you at home? I am well. We have arrived in Ruicheng, where there are countless hibiscus flowers. When the wind blows, pink and purple petals fall all around. I keep thinking, if only you were here, you would surely be so happy you’d spin around in delight. There is a local specialty here—silk jujubes. I tasted them and found them delicious, and upon asking, learned they keep well, so I bought some for you to try. I remember once reading in Shen Congwen’s letters, ‘I have walked many roads, crossed many bridges, seen many clouds, tasted many wines, yet have only loved one person at the best age of my life.’ I didn’t think much of it then, but now I truly feel the same. You’ll probably cry when you read this, but that’s not why I write. I just wanted to tell you—I miss you very much.

Banxia could not hold back and began to cry. Anzi immediately left his puzzle and ran over. “What’s wrong, Sister? What happened?”

Banxia hugged his small body. “Nothing, Sister’s just missing your brother-in-law very much.”

“Brother-in-law?”

“He’s my husband. He’s gone far, far away.”

“Don’t be sad, Sister. I’ll stay with you. I won’t leave.”

It was only a momentary lapse of emotion; Banxia soon recovered.

“Thank you, Anzi. You’re the best.”

“Then don’t cry, Sister.”

“All right, I won’t cry.”

Banxia took out paper and brush to reply.

Gan Sui, may this letter find you well.

This greeting feels so silly. This is my first time writing a letter to anyone. I’m doing well at home. I picked up a little brother at the door—his name is Anzi. He’s very good and very obedient. How I met him is a bit of a story, but I’ll tell you all about it when you return. I tasted the jujubes you sent—they’re especially sweet. Business in the shop is fine, but I think I’m too useless—no hope of opening a national chain, so I’ll have to rely on you to earn me a title. As you travel farther, it’ll get colder. I put some wind-dispelling, dampness-dispelling medicine in your bag. If you catch a chill and can’t find a doctor, take one pill. Things outside aren’t like home—be careful in all things. I’ll be waiting for you to come back.

After finishing the letter, Banxia started packing things for Gan Sui: dried smoked fish, roasted meat strips, homemade chili sauce—one item after another, until she had a sizable bundle. Anzi helped quietly at her side. Banxia also made some pastries for Bai Lian, then set off for Wang Xiaoshan’s house with the packages.

“Sister is going to that brother’s house from this morning. Do you want to stay home and play, or come with me?”

“I want to go with you. I’ll help you carry things,” Anzi said, already picking up a small bundle.

Banxia didn’t stop him, just reminded, “If you get tired, give the bundle to me.”

Anzi nodded, carrying the little package and holding Banxia’s hand as they walked together to Wang Xiaoshan’s house.

Wang Xiaoshan wasn’t home yet; the servant led Banxia into the inner courtyard. She noticed the gatekeeper had changed. A maid led her in. Bai Lian, having finished lunch, was walking slowly about her room. Her health had always been fragile, and the doctor had advised her to move about more, so she wouldn’t struggle during childbirth. Seeing Banxia, she smiled and came over. “You’ve finally come. You never visit unless something’s troubling you.”

“Are you scolding me, sister-in-law? Then I’ll have to come visit all the time and bother you until you’re tired of me.”

“That would be wonderful—I’d love someone to talk to.” She glanced at Anzi. “Is this the little brother your husband mentioned? Oh, he’s truly a lovely child.”

Bai Lian and Wang Xiaoshan had been married five or six years without children, so she adored them all the more, especially one as beautiful as Anzi. She yearned to take him in her arms and cherish him.

“You mustn’t—remember you’re expecting. Don’t strain your back. Anzi, come greet your sister.”

Anzi didn’t respond. Banxia was startled; he was rarely disobedient. She crouched to his level. “What’s wrong?”

“I only have one sister,” Anzi said seriously.

“He’s so endearing—he only recognizes you. Then how about calling me Sister Bai?”

Only then did Anzi softly call her Sister Bai.

Bai Lian had the maid bring over fruit and pastries and began chatting with Banxia. “Along the way, Master and the others stop at properties owned by Cloud Hidden Academy, so it’s easy to send things. There’s no need to wait for news from Junior Brother Gan—if you have anything to send, just bring it over directly.”

Banxia hadn’t realized Cloud Hidden Academy’s business was so extensive—almost like the Jiangzuo Alliance, with properties and spies everywhere in Jiangzuo.

“What are you thinking about so deeply, little sister?” Bai Lian asked.

“I just didn’t realize the Academy had such a big business.”

“Oh, it’s just that Master has a wide network. But all that has nothing to do with us. As wives, we just need to eat well, drink well, and mind our households.”

Banxia nodded, accepting her advice.

Bai Lian was a pregnant woman after all. She wanted Banxia to stay longer for company, but her own energy was lacking. Banxia urged her to rest, promising to visit more often in the future. Only then did Bai Lian let her go, sending her off with a generous gift of fruit.

As they walked home, Anzi asked, “Sister, why is Sister Bai’s belly so big?”

“Because she has a baby inside.”

“Will your belly have a baby someday, too?”

Banxia blushed. “Yes, but not until later.”

“When you have a baby, will you not want me anymore?”

“Of course not. Because you and I are family. Family means, no matter what, we never give up on each other. So you never have to worry—I’ll never leave you.”

“I won’t leave you either. I want to stay with you always, and with your baby too. I’ll help you protect him.”

“All right, pinky promise.” Banxia played the childish game with Anzi.

When we’re young, we always think those closest to us will always be there, always by our side. But who can predict the storms that come overnight, or how we might one day find ourselves watching loved ones drift far away?